


Poor, Poor Boy...

by WitchWayWizardry



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: F/M, Magic, Minor Spoilers, Possession, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2019-03-04 04:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13356600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WitchWayWizardry/pseuds/WitchWayWizardry
Summary: Following a garish parade for the foolish masses, praising the theatrical slaying of their president at her hands, a poor, poor boy failed his Sorceress.  But he was rewarded... with her bed.





	Poor, Poor Boy...

“Poor, poor boy…”

That’s what she called him; when she found him, when she saved him. That’s what she called him when she began opening his mind to the truths. That’s what she called him when she woke him following his defeat at the parade.

She called him a poor, poor boy when she brought him into her bed.

She wore the same elegant gown, black as the night sky. She wore the same ornate headpiece; she never spoke a word since she roused him from unconsciousness. She took him by the hand and led him through the Presidential palace, past the governmental staff scrambling about following one successful and another failed assassination, and past the empty sitting rooms and security offices. She pulled him through the enormous wooden double doors of a bedroom suite, closing them behind her as he stood confused and curious at her side.

Once she shut the noise away, locking the door with a key that rested on the side table, she took his hand once more and pulled him further in. The bed was raised on a massive wooden platform, centered perfectly in the room, the focal of attention, the most important piece of furniture, an altar of a kind. He saw the luxurious pillows and satin sheets, blood red and inviting, but only for a moment before he was distracted.

She came to occupy his gaze, holding his attention with unnatural, beautiful eyes. She traced a finger down his shirt, from neck to waist, causing the stitching to break at her touch. The pieces fell away, exposing his youthful, muscular physique to her. With a slight shrug, her gown gave way, falling from her shoulders and drifting to the floor. She stood before him, nude and statuesque. Her raven hair tumbled down; the headdress had vanished. Strands of black hair fell over her breasts and stomach, contrasting startlingly with her soft skin, white as snow. He was too stunned to move, unsure of what was happening right before his eyes. It became somewhat clearer when she looked pointedly down, at his trousers, and back up at his face, without a word. He hastily unfastened his belt and removed the rest of his clothes to match her, his sizeable erection bouncing slightly as she took his hand once more, pulled him firmly to the bed, and drew him closer to lie her down amidst the cushions and sheets.

She remained in control, her small mouth, her luscious lips he couldn’t kiss were pressed together. Her shining golden eyes sparkling as she straddled him, grinding her hips, and drawing her belly tight as she bounced slowly on top of him. She made no noise as she enveloped him; she only watched him. She marked his ragged breaths. She gripped his hands in hers, refusing his hands to touch her body. She used strength, impossible strength, to keep him pressed down against the sheets, into the pillows. She didn’t take her eyes off him.

She was hot, molten hot. She was wet, gloriously wet. She was tight, so very tight. She was not his first. He controlled himself, but after a time, with no reaction from her, no sound, no gasps, no moans, he wondered if she derived any pleasure from him at all. And his control was waning. Her softness, her rhythm; there was only so much he could take. But at the moment of his completion, he cried a wordless cry of thanks to the sky. Her lips parted with a released sound kept deep inside, quivering as her completion quaked her body, shaking around his length, her thin thighs crushing his sides. But only for a time. Then she released him, breaking their locked gaze, and rising to stand.

He watched her now, the Sorceress. Her back was to him; she stood before a wardrobe, presumably staring at the opulent contents. Her body was bare and porcelain, with impossibly long raven-black hair sweeping her ankles. He lay, naked and numb, amidst scattered sheets and pillows, propped against the headboard, drained and weary. He felt no shame in his nakedness, per say, but the room was still very cool and Seifer moved only so slightly to collect a small velvet pillow to cover his manhood.

How long had she been standing there?

How long did she keep her gaze turned away from him after staring so intently into his eyes during their sex?

Seifer thought back to the memories recently past. 

After the failed attempt by the traitorous SeeDs to assassinate the Sorceress, after Seifer failed to defeat the threat of Squall Leonheart and to protect Her, Seifer consigned himself to punishment, or to his removal from her service. After all, he heard the Sorceress call him worthless, in a tone laced with bitter disappointment, just before collapsing. Still, no condemnation was spoken after she stirred him from battle-weary sleep. The parade and the crowds of Galbadian citizens were dispersing rapidly. Armed officials were collecting Squall, and Seifer could see magically conjured spears of ice scattered about him, with one frighteningly large jagged protrusion erupting through his former classmates’ shoulder. And the Sorceress, Lady Edea, was kneeling gracefully beside Seifer’s prone form. Her presence, the act of compassion or concern should have matched her visage, but her face was the same void mask as when he first met her. She just stared at him, blankly and unfeeling. The same face she always wore and the same face as when she called him “poor, poor boy” for the first time.

Seifer was brought back to reality as Sorceress Edea inhaled harshly and loudly, and the room spontaneously became much warmer. At an unspoken command, the many candles scattered throughout the bedroom came alight. Seifer watched as the sheen and droplets of sweat clinging to the woman’s shoulders and hips evaporated away, leaving pristine alabaster skin, radiant and unblemished. Her pillar of thick black hair flew up on a non-existent wind, wrapping itself to and fro, braiding itself into a long plait before wrapping around itself into a fixed bun. The trails of Seifer’s climax that ran slowly down her inner thighs vanished without a trace. Seifer felt an odd tingling, different from other magics he had felt as a result of Junctioning, and felt his own body’s sweat disappear. The slickness of her and the scattered splattering of his climax on his stomach vanished as well, leaving his body clean and dry. As her form was at last cleansed to her liking, Edea concluded her long inhale by letting the air pass from her lungs slowly and unabated. With the flutter of silken fabric, a robe of brilliant Indigo emerged from the wardrobe. Seifer watched as the Sorceress was enveloped by the garment, her body literally passing through the stitching and threads in order to occupy it.

“You were thinking about the boy soldier,” The Sorceress spoke, tightening the robe’s cord around her slender waist.

“Squall,” Seifer did not deny his mind, there was no point with Her.

“Such a preposterous name,” Edea scoffed, “He cannot be the one, surely.”

In another show of magical prestige, perhaps spurned by her thoughts about Squall and his failed assassination attempts, the candles roared higher on their wicks, feeding off a magical accelerant. Seifer watched all of this power, wondering if he had just slept with a goddess, a terrible, vengeful goddess.

The Sorceress turned to face him, and studied him for a few moments before speaking again.

“Not yet,” She said, answering an unspoken query.

“Sorry?”

“I am not Goddess,” Edea began walking back towards the bed on which he lay, “Not yet.”

The way she said this, her voice filled with confidence, passion, and excitement, but her face showing no emotion at all, was unnerving, to be sure. She sat on the edge of the mattress at his side; the plunging neckline of the robe revealed the valley between her breasts. The sight of them, the swell of them hidden and obscured, but close enough to touch, brought an arousal back to Seifer. But he did not touch; he did not look, no matter how captivating they had proven to be mere moments before. Edea was his Sorceress, and respect was paramount. Still, she noticed but seemed not to care.

“He is alive,” She revealed.

“What?” Seifer asked confused.

He stared into those eyes, an empty yellow over black. She didn’t blink; it was almost as if she didn’t see at all. But the Sorceress was watching Seifer, watched her young lover as intently as a stalking lioness to her prey. 

“The SeeD,” She answered, “’Squall,’ you called him. He is still alive. He had several Guardian Forces junctioned to him, and not wanting to die themselves, the GFs preserved his body and mind long enough for the physicians to do their work.”

“I didn’t know they could do that,” Seifer whispered in awe.

“And perhaps that is why you failed the cumulative field examination… Twice.”

Seifer glared at the women for bring up such a touchy subject, but said nothing. He could hear the mocking tone, but could yet again see no playfulness in her face or eyes.

“If I had not failed, twice, I would be your enemy. I could not serve you,” Seifer argued.

The Sorceress smiled, mechanical and dry.

“Be still, boy,” She said, “I am aware of this. And know that not many are aware of just how potent a Junction can be for an individual. A Guardian Force is just that: a guardian. But it is a rare thing for someone to Junction multiple creatures to their minds. Using only one, as is the norm, would never be able to save them from mortal harm.”

Sorceress Edea reached out her hand to touch Seifer’s own, tracking the raised paths of his veins with her middle finger. In the silence, she followed the lines up his forearm and rested her palm against his toned bicep. Seifer reached his free hand to cover hers when Edea quickly snatched his in midair. Seifer tensed, but then relaxed as the Sorceress brought his hand to gently touch the flawless skin of her beautiful face. She closed her eyes, for what seemed to be the first time, and nuzzled her cheek into his palm.

“Umm, what is this?” Seifer voiced his confusion, “What are we doing?”

“Now you ask?” Edea asked.

“I… I just…”

He was silenced by lips, pressed hard and unforgivingly against his. A wet and hungry tongue forced its way into his mouth, and once inside, met no resistance. Rather Seifer kissed her back, inhaling sharply and moving forward, desperate to taste more, to have more. He rolled them both around, laying her down, blanketing her. Her robe had fallen open, the tie loosening and exposing her glory to him. His Sorceress appeared no different. She had no lust in her eyes; the feel of her beating heart, with his chest to hers, beat no faster at his touch. Still, her hands stroked his arms. Her legs wrapped around his. A lazy embrace.

“You do what Knights do,” She said, her eyes trailing down his chest, “You do what Knights do for Sorceresses. But this, the more enjoyable of responsibilities… take pleasure in this while you can. Tomorrow, the work begins. We meet the SeeD with the preposterous name, and you will learn what he knows. You will take everything from him. There will be no pleasure like this for you again. You must find your pleasure in the other tasks of your service.”

Her hand pressed a path over Seifer’s chest, trailing down his core, reaching down between her legs. Edea took him in hand, guiding him back inside of her, her eyes widening as he hissed from the sensation. She held him close with legs locked around his waist, hands once more on his arms, digging her nails into the muscle. She bucked her hips up, bringing him closer.

“Take what is yours, my poor, poor boy,” She growled low in her throat.

“And…” Seifer gasped, “And what’s yours?”

He rocked against Edea, taking what she said was his.

“Everything,” She answered, “Everything is mine!”


End file.
